No Place for Us
by Spatix
Summary: Draco Malfoy is a lot of things and guilty is definitely one of them. After the war he finds himself alone and dejected in a place that he once considered his. It's hard to function in a world that wishes you dead.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

He stood in the doorway of his home and glanced back one last time. He wouldn't see this place for another three months, and to tell the truth he felt relieved. The manor's renovations were not completed and he doubted that even if they were he would be comfortable.

"Write me?" His mother asked from behind him. If she wasn't his mother he doubted that he would be able to see how worn down she looked. She still walked with pride in each step and she still wore a stony expression but her eyebrows were just creased together slightly and her eyes, once sharp, were now clouded with worry.

Draco wrapped one arm around her and breathed in her perfume. "Of course," he answered as he pulled away. "I'll be fine," he stated when he still saw the concern in her face, but he would be lying if he said it wasn't to help calm his own nerves either.

Narcissa sighed and grabbed a strand of his blonde hair that had fallen in his face. "If you ever want to come back…" She put the hair back into place and met his grey eyes, "You don't have to do this, Draco." They had argued about this over the past few weeks and she was making one last stand before he would leave for King's Cross Station.

"Yes, I do," he answered, looking away from his mother because he felt his façade failing and if he kept on looking at her he knew he would stay. Draco swallowed the guilt that was bubbling in his stomach. He hated leaving her in the house still scarred with dark magic and he was pretty sure the stain in front of the fire place was blood but he never voiced this.

"I'll be back soon," he said more coldly than he wanted to, but his mother either didn't notice or she didn't care because she planted a kiss on his cheek, gave a small smile, and then turned and went inside. He watched the doors close behind her and sighed. He was thrown back by a sudden urge to call back to her and ask if she would accompany him to the station but he quickly pushed that out of his mind. It was childish for him to seek his mother for comfort, especially since that would only draw more attention from others.

He knew that his mother wouldn't be alone in the manor, his father would be there to keep her company when he wasn't at the ministry being interrogated. They had each other, just like before but also not. The return of Voldemort destroyed their old life and they were still trying to pick up the pieces and put them back together and figure out their new place in the world. Every fiber of his body screamed to stay home and forget the rest of the world, or at the very least Hogwarts, so he was surprised when he felt his feet start moving.

Draco thought of King's Cross Station and Platform 9 ¾ and the students that would probably be boarding by this point. His stomach turned when he thought of how many of his classmates would actually be returning to finish their seventh year. He had completed most of the year before the Battle of Hogwarts but it was because of the battle that he was unable to finish and graduate. So, he was going to have to retake his classes until December. He knew that there were some of those who had spent their summer at Hogwarts finishing their classes but he had spent his summer being interrogated and tried for his crimes until Potter had intervened and saved him from going to Azkaban.

Potter. The git. He always had to come in and save the day but the hatred that once consumed him was now almost entirely gone. Potter had saved his life several times and Draco had saved his a few, but he was sure that now Potter had one up on him and he hated being in others' debt. He didn't know how to repay it.

Draco shook his head and turned around once more. He was now at the edge of the property and he had nowhere else to go but to the station. He swallowed his pride, closed his eyes, and then felt the familiar tug and pull as he apparated. When he opened his eyes, he was standing in the alleyway across from King's Cross Station.

It was already bustling with people but he managed to spy those intended for Platform 9 ¾. They were the ones carrying owls and lugging large suitcases with them, and also the ones who drew the attention of muggles.

Draco pulled up the hood of his jacket and hurriedly walked into the building, trying his best to blend into the crowd. He trusted that house elves back at the manor had sent his belongings ahead of time and that they would already be on the train. He wanted to spend as little time as possible with others.

He looked up at the signs waiting until he saw the gap between platforms 9 and 10. A memory from when he was 11 crossed his mind briefly. It was his first time at King's Cross Station and his father was pushing him ahead through the crowd, guiding him with his cane. He looked up at his father when they were between the platforms and before they stepped in through the passage, he asked, "If it's in-between nine and ten why is it not called Platform 9 ½?" His father gave a bemused smirk but he never did answer his question.

Draco was brought back to reality by the sight of long bushy brown hair and a red Gryffindor scarf. Granger. Of course, she would return but Merlin did he wish she didn't. He stopped in his tracks and stared as she walked along towards the magical barrier oblivious to him. She was laughing loudly and more than anything that was what caught him off guard. Between the ministry and his house he wasn't exactly around a light-hearted bunch.

"…yes, Ron we've been over this a hundred times before. Now, please, we're almost there," she said, exasperation evident in her voice. That was when he saw Weasley, his mop of red hair easily identifiable. His eyes were glued to Granger, a hint of a scowl was on his face though. She kissed him and when she pulled away he noticed that Weasley had a wolfish grin in place of the frown. He watched as the pair said their goodbyes and Granger alone walked through the brick wall.

Weasley looked up and immediately made eye-contact with Draco. The red head seemed to be just as surprised as he was to see him there and for an instant he thought that Weasley was going to confront him but instead he huffed, glanced towards the wall where his girlfriend had just walked through and then turned on his heel and walked away.

Draco was hit with an even stronger desire to just go home and forget all of them but he thought of his what his father would say, or wouldn't, and so he forced himself to go through the magical entrance.

There were more people than he thought there would be. Platform 9 ¾ was usually crowded but considering that Hogwarts had recently been besieged by the Dark Lord himself, Draco was hoping that people would've either transferred their children or kept them home to teach them themselves but he was wrong. He realized that he was wrong a lot.

He scanned the crowd for any signs of his friends – no, that was definitely the wrong word – but anyone who would not strangle him on sight. He did consider Weasley's restraint a good sign, though.

Draco wasn't surprised to see very few Slytherin clad students of those, he did not recognize them. They were younger kids, and considering that he had spent the past two years working as a death eater he paid little attention to those outside of those he trusted.

For a split second he thought he saw Goyle boarding the train but when he blinked he saw a sixth year Hufflepuff instead. With a huff he pulled down his hood and pushed his way through the crowd and to the train.

It was then that he realized that he had never considered what he would do on the train ride to Hogwarts. He had spent so much time worrying about what would happen once he was actually there that he had never considered what he would do aboard the Hogwarts Express.

Luckily for him, he had arrived early enough so that there were still empty compartments. He slid into one and huddled in the corner by the window. He grabbed the Daily Prophet that was sitting on the seat across from him and he began scanning the paper for something to do but his mind was elsewhere.

His heart hammered in his chest as more and more students flooded the train. Some of them glanced into the compartment but otherwise gave no indication that they knew who he was. Why should he fear them though? They didn't understand anything. They didn't know and Merlin that infuriated him.

A tap on the glass got his attention and he felt his heart sink. Granger, again. The door slid open and she walked in followed by the Weasley girl – what was her name again? They didn't seem to care that anyone else was in the compartment as they laughed and threw their bags above.

Draco looked away and pulled harder on his hood. He wanted to tell the mudblood and the blood-traitor to leave but the words were stuck in his throat and, he would never admit it, but he didn't want to fight them not now. Besides, he hadn't sided with Voldemort in the end. He had gone to trial, his crimes were forgotten…

The laughter that had followed them in had stopped.

He had to hold himself back from looking over his shoulder to see what the pair was doing. He felt the seat sink and knew that one of them had sat down next to him. His heart was beating so fast and he met with an overwhelming want to jump up and get off the train.

It was at this moment that the Hogwarts Express started to move.

"Hi, do you mind if we sit in here?" A voice asked from the opposite side of the compartment. He recognized the forceful tone underlined with a twinge of annoyance, it was the Weasley girl. So that would mean that Granger was sitting next to him. "All of the other compartments are full," she continued when he didn't answer. He couldn't. He was paralyzed with fear but he didn't understand why so he sat there and wished that they would just leave.

Draco watched as the train pulled away from the station. The parents were waving to their children, some had tears in their eyes and others looked as if they'd rather be anywhere than there.

Granger and Weasley must have taken his silence for acceptance because they didn't leave but they had good enough sense to leave him be. They talked in hushed tones about their summers but he could still hear every word they said. Draco tried to push their idle chatter out but the landscape was only so entertaining.

The last two times he had rode on the train to Hogwarts he thought that it would be his last but here he was again. There was no Voldemort, no threat to his parents or his home, and even Potter wasn't going to be there. While he thought that not having Potter would've been a comfort he found it oddly unsettling. While Potter had been the bane of his existence for years, he was also a source of the normality that he craved.

The voices of Granger and Weasley suddenly dipped and that peaked his interest enough to try and listen.

"…you don't actually think that he'd- "

"Why not?"

Silence.

He wondered if they were talking about him and his return to Hogwarts but no that didn't sound right. It still bothered him, their secrecy. After spending so much time in the presence of the Dark Lord and his servants he grew to hate secrets. They meant danger and pain and death. Draco knew that little miss Granger and Weasley didn't have a bad bone in their body – much to his chagrin – but he couldn't stop the thoughts from creeping into his mind.

Slowly he began to doze off, his head resting against the glass of window. At some point he thought that Weasley got up and left but he wasn't sure. He just wanted this ride to go as smoothly as it could possibly go. Luckily, so far it was going pretty well despite having two Gryffindors join him.

He thought of what lied ahead of him. As of now, he was a known death eater, the enemy of Harry Potter, and he had no friends. At least none that he knew of. He was exactly what others should fear and he knew it.

He pushed those thoughts out of his mind. There was no use in thinking about the future, of what may come or what may not. He hoped that the students would ignore him, that they would leave him alone but the tug in his gut said otherwise.

Curiosity eventually took over and he opened an eye and turned his head slowly and carefully as to not draw attention to him immediately.

He saw that the seats across from him were empty and concluded that Weasley had left to change in her robes. He dared to turn a little bit more and saw Granger reading a book on the far side of the seat. Her head was resting against the glass window, her eyes eagerly scanning the pages. Until they weren't. They met his and he felt his eyes go wide and he quickly turned away from her, hoping to Merlin that she hadn't realized who he was.

"Draco."

Of course, she did.

"Granger," he acknowledged. "How long have you known?" He asked hoping that she knew what he was asking.

Without missing a beat, she answered, "This entire time." There was a pause and he looked back at her and her gaze didn't waiver. "I've been meaning to talk to you alone, Malfoy," she stated. She was going

Draco was in no mood to talk, especially to her. She didn't look particularly pleased to be alone with him but she seemed adamant to have a discussion.

"What?" He asked, and he didn't mean for it to sound so harsh but all he wanted was to be left alone.

Granger bit her lip and then focused her eyes on him. Her voice was low, "I don't know what you're doing here Malfoy – "

"Is it too much for me to want to graduate?"

"Yes," she said so quickly he almost missed it.

He narrowed his eyes at her, "Trust me, Granger, I don't want this but I'm here whether you like it or not."

She was tugged on the Gryffindor scarf around her neck, "Listen, the war might be over but don't think that just because you aren't locked behind bars that everything you did was okay."

"Potter was the one who spoke for me at my trial!"

"I know that!" she snapped. "Harry had his reasons but don't think that just makes up for everything."

"What gives you that impression?"

"You're here, aren't you?"

"Because I have to be."

Granger sighed, "Just… stay out of our way, okay?" She phrased it like a question but he knew it wasn't up for debate.

Malfoy opened his mouth to throw back a retort but the compartment door opened with a _bang_ and Weasley walked in. Merlin, what was her name?

"Malfoy," she spat at him. She took a step towards him as if to punch him in the face but Granger stepped between them. Weasley frowned but her gaze was fixated on him. He turned away when he couldn't hold her stare any longer.

A cold laugh escaped between Weasley's teeth, "I didn't believe the rumors that you'd be back. Thought you would've stayed home with mummy and daddy." Draco felt anger boiling in his stomach as she continued, "You're a coward. You might've changed sides at the end but we all know the truth."

He snapped his head to her and narrowed his eyes. "Shut it, Weasley. You and your blood traitor family are still living in that shack you call a house? You may think you're all high and mighty but you're still nothing. Don't think you're better than me just because you're shagging it up with the hero." He stood up and glanced at Granger and her once diplomatic demeanor had changed to one of anger. She had the same look in her eyes that she had right before she punched him in the face during their 3rd year.

"Stay out of my fucking way," he hissed before he shoved his way between the pair and stepped out into the hallway. He wasn't just angry he was infuriated. Her claiming that she knew everything about him, a humorless chuckle slipped out and he punched the wall.

Draco cursed himself for leaving but there was no going back now. Without a compartment of his own he decided to spend the rest of the trip sitting on the stairs leading down to the door.

He didn't have to sit there long. Soon the Hogwarts Express was pulling up to Hogsmeade Station. As soon as the doors swung open he was off the train and heading towards the Thestral-pulled carriages.

Draco pulled his hood down. There was no more hiding his identity whether he wanted to or not. Only a few short years ago he was proud of his name Malfoy. He wore it as a badge of honor. It meant that he was superior, better than everyone else but now he wished he was anyone but.

He climbed up and stared at the Thestrals. Were they content with not being seen by most people? Did they even realize it? Probably not.

Quickly the students began to pour out of the train and began climbing into the open carriages. He watched as some students do a double-take when they saw him, one even pointed. He clenched his jaw and looked out towards the lake where the first years were beginning to head towards. The castle was in the distance standing against the night sky but even from here he could see the scars from the battle that took place only several months before.

He felt the carriage jostle and he looked over to see two familiar faces joining him.

"I have to say I didn't think I'd see you here," Blaise Zabini stated as he sat down. "After everything that happened this summer I thought you would've stayed far away from here."

Theodore Nott sat across from him and flashed a smile, "We didn't see you on the train. Where were you?"

Draco shook his head and saw Weasley, Granger, and Looney Luna climbing into the carriage behind him. "I was stuck in a compartment with Weasley and Granger."

"Fuck, the blood traitor and the mudblood? Merlin…" While Nott hadn't been a death eater his father had been and only a month before was he sentenced to several decades in Azkaban. He was obviously still bitter, either that or his views from before hadn't changed.

Nott continued when he didn't respond, "You should've come sat with us anyway."

Zabini said, "It's a little weird, isn't it? Slytherin has the most returning seventh years. I heard most Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws finished this summer, along with a few from Gryffindor who weren't selected."

"Selected?"

"Yeah," Zabini answered. "Those who fought against You-Know-Who were – "

"Really? You-Know-Who?" Nott asked, disgust laced in his voice.

Zabini rolled his eyes. "Look, I was never interested in being a servant for that guy unlike the two of you. I'm not going to say his name."

"He's dead!"

"Whatever, he doesn't deserve it," Zabini took a breath. "Anyway, those who fought against him were granted diplomas or exemptions from completing their courses all the way. Well, those who were of age to fight."

The Thestrals began to move and soon the chain of carriages began the trek to the castle entrance. The trio sat in silence, Draco glad to have company even if it meant Zabini and Nott.

Draco had a thought and looked at Zabini and then to Nott and frowned. "Why are you two back? You evacuated with most of the Slytherins so why are you here now? Why wouldn't you finish during the summer?"

Zabini chuckled and Draco couldn't help but notice how relaxed he seemed to be. "And ruin my summer holiday? No, I decided to just come back for the first part of the year. Besides, that would give the staff more time to clean it up. I heard it was in pretty bad shape."

"Yeah, it was," Draco nodded.

Nott yawned out, "Yeah I got out but my father was there so I had to spend most of my summer at his trials. That was a waste of time…" Draco looked at the two and sighed. It was strange to be having this conversation so casually.

"Your dad was pretty lucky," Nott drawled out. "I mean it's no secret about your family's allegiance," his eyes darted to Draco's left arm and then back to his eyes.

Draco hardened his stare, "We didn't fight with him in the end."

"No, you didn't," and suddenly Draco didn't want to be around Nott. "All I'm saying is that I know if I was there - "

"But you weren't. You left."

"How about you two stop this. It's done, it's over with," Zabini intervened, obviously fed up with the pair. Draco leaned back and didn't say another word for the rest of the ride.

* * *

 **And thus the journey has begun.**

 **I'm very excited about this story and I hope you all are too. Let me know what you think!**

 **Thank you**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Draco didn't particularly like Zabini and Nott but they were familiar and they were friendly. They didn't speak much as they walked into Hogwarts but neither did the other students around them. They stared up at the castle. There were still gaping holes in the side and piles of rubble still littered the hallways but it was in much better condition than the last time he had seen it.

He heard gasps around him from the students who had fled before the battle had started. He didn't blame them. The once grand castle was now scarred and in ruins. A wave of brief happiness filled him when he realized that the Slytherin common room was most likely completely untouched.

"Blimey, I'm glad I missed that," a low voice from his left said. He glanced over to see a pasty-faced Ravenclaw, that he was pretty sure was heading into his seventh year. The boy had wide eyes as he scanned over the castle grounds, most likely imagining the horrors that had taken place there only four months before. Nothing that boy could imagine would possibly compare to the real thing though. It was worse, so much worse.

They walked into the castle and headed straight for the Great Hall. Draco was starving and his mouth watered when he thought about the food that would be waiting for him. Before he knew it, he was standing in the large doorway and saw the four long familiar tables slowly being filled by the Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff students. The ceiling above showed the clear starry night and Draco was relieved to see that not everything had changed.

Not many people were in the Great Hall yet. He could see the professors on the other side of the room still standing and mingling with each other. He felt a hand on his shoulder and then Zabini was guiding him to the Slytherin table.

"Merlin, I swear you better get ahold of yourself, Malfoy," Zabini hissed as they walked towards the small group of Slytherins sitting huddled in the center of the table. Draco was surprised to find that he couldn't put a name to any of their faces.

The group of six stared at the pair as they approached. He knew they dreaded the upcoming school year. Not as much as he did, but they dreaded it all the same.

"Aye, Zabini, nice to see you showed up," a black haired-boy said when they approached. The boy's hard eyes landed on Malfoy. "Malfoy," he greeted and gave a curt nod, but Draco knew that look. He spent his entire life giving that look, but he never expected to be on the receiving end of it.

The boy's face was neutral but his eyes bore into his own with such intense hatred and anger that he took a step back in surprise. Draco wasn't stupid, he knew his time at Hogwarts would be strenuous but he had counted on solidarity with his house. He was a Malfoy first but he was a Slytherin second. He spent seven years of his life here playing the enemy to many of those who resided in the castle, but never did he think that he would become one to his house.

Draco was smart though and only smiled at the boy across from him and reached out his hand but the other refused. He dropped his hand and cleared his throat.

He was about to open his mouth to a shoot a retort towards the stranger when a cold hand grabbed the back of his neck and Draco felt a rush of panic run through him. "Well, boys and girls, this is sure to be an interesting year," the smooth voice of Theodore Nott drawled out from behind him.

Draco wanted to hit him.

Draco shrugged off Nott's hand and sat down at the table praying that the night would end. He ignored the group around him as they slowly sat down and more students began to trickle into the hall. He had his back towards the other students, he didn't need to see their faces to know that they were glaring at the Slytherin table, glaring at him.

It was quiet in the Great Hall, which was saying something. He had been there last year when Snape had been headmaster but even then there were the cries of protest and rebellion among the students. Now it was just still.

Professor McGonagall, now Headmistress McGonagall, walked up the podium and Draco looked up at her. She was an older woman but he was sure that there were more lines on her face.

She tapped the podium with her wand and everyone looked up at her. "Welcome students," she began. "It is a pleasure to see so many new faces and so many returning ones as well. As all of you know by now, Hogwarts was under attack last year by Lord Voldemort and his forces but that will not affect any one of you or your school year. I want to emphasize that Hogwarts is a safe place and your safety is our number one priority. We lost many students, friends, and family during that time and as long as we remember them they will never truly be gone." She paused, as if to collect herself and then continued. "However, today is not about mourning the loss it about celebrating the future. Each and every one of you are here because…"

Draco zoned her out. It wasn't even on purpose but he had heard the same speech a thousand times already. Everybody was ready to move on from the horrors they had experienced the year before and what better way than by speaking out about how they were never going to forget what happened and this would never happen again? Except it had, the same thing happened only a short time before and Draco figured that it was bound to happen again, but that wasn't something you say at one of things. So, he sat there and waited patiently until the food appeared.

Draco tried to eat the food that was in front of him but found that his appetite had vanished, so he tried engaging with the others around him but _fuck_ he just really didn't care. He didn't even realize that the Great Hall was emptying out until he looked up from his plate of food to see only Zabini sitting with him.

Zabini's eyes, for once, were not hard and calculating but rather had the unmistakable look of concern in them. Draco looked away. "I don't know what's going on with you, and I honestly don't want to know," Zabini sighed. "But you're good in my book." It wasn't the best of pep talks but Draco was grateful for his effort.

"Come on, you look like shit, Malfoy. Let's head to bed," Zabini stood up and waited for Draco and they exited the Great Hall. Draco couldn't stop himself from glancing over at Zabini as they walked. What did he want? Why was he doing this? They were never particularly close, Draco wasn't even sure if he could even call him a friend. Zabini was not known for his compassion, but rather his lack of. Even among the Slytherins Zabini wasn't really close to anyone.

It took longer than Draco wanted to admit before he realized they weren't heading towards the dungeon. "Where are we heading?"

The look Zabini gave him then made him turn red. "Do you have your head on right, Malfoy? Did you not hear the whole spiel from McGonagall?" When he didn't answer Zabini continued, "There just isn't enough room to house us eight years, so all of us who are returning have to stay in a make-shift dormitory until they decide where to put us." He nodded before his stomach dropped and he hoped to Merlin that his face wasn't as pale as it felt.

"What did you mean when you said, 'all of us?'"

"All of us," he repeated.

If he wasn't nauseous before he definitely was now. He swore under his breath, "As if coming back here wasn't bad enough."

"A lot of us weren't sure you'd come back at all, after everything that happened," Zabini stated. Draco got the feeling that he wanted him to talk but Draco didn't feel like talking. He got the hint and didn't continue. He was grateful for Zabini's silence, he guessed that everyone was changed by the war, but he wasn't going to put his guard down around him yet. He was one of the most cunning people he knew – no, that was wrong considering the long list of people he had spent the past few summers with. He was giving him too much credit but he was definitely not to be underestimated.

Once, Draco hated silence. When it presented itself, he liked to fill it with stories. When he was younger he used to tell stories of his father's accomplishment or his father's, then, as he got older, he started telling stories of his own. It used to fill him with pride when he could boast about what he had done. At the time he felt like he was finally following into the steps of his father but he was wrong. He wouldn't follow into his father's footsteps until the summer after his fifth year. Nothing said family tradition more than joining the Death Eaters. One time a snarky first year made a comment about how he had joined the dark side, he thought it was a pretty terrible joke until it was followed up by boisterous laughter. He didn't get it then and he definitely doesn't get it now.

Now, though, he craved silence. He liked hearing himself think, he liked relying on the only thing he could count on: himself. His mother had voiced her concerns that he spent too much time in his head but Draco figured that he deserved it. He enjoyed the peace of mind that followed Voldemort's defeat, never having to worry that he would see into his mind. He was well-versed in occlumency but he was not convinced that would have been able to keep out the Dark Lord.

They rounded a corner and in front of them stood a large wooden door. He could faintly hear the sound of people talking inside. He wanted to turn around and walk away but his feet wouldn't move and then Zabini was walking in and _bloody hell_ he hates this school.

Draco was used to stares. Growing up a Malfoy, he got them no matter where he went but now he wished he was anyone but. It wasn't that he was ashamed then of being a Malfoy but just ashamed to be Draco.

Each corner of the large room was occupied by a house and in each corner there was a hallway that Draco assumed led to the dormitories. In the center was a make-shift common area obviously meant to force the students to be together but from the looks of it they were not having it. The students huddled with those from their houses by the walls. He made a note of how the Slytherin group was against the furthest wall away from everyone else, whether that was from their choosing or from everyone else's he didn't know. He supposed it didn't matter.

What small amount of conversation that was being had before they entered the room ended abruptly as soon as their feet crossed the threshold. Draco forced his head to look straight ahead at the Slytherins as his feet moved of their own accord and carried him across the room. He didn't dare sneak a peek at Zabini but he didn't have to, to know that his head was held high and a smirk was on his face. The confidence that Zabini had before the war had only grown.

It was like the Great Hall all over again. A horrifying thought popped into his mind and he realized that this was going to be an everyday occurrence, at least for the few weeks. Fuck his life.

"Malfoy!"

He stopped. Merlin's beard why did he _stop_? The voice came from his right but he didn't turn his head. "I thought I saw you in the Great Hall," the voice called out again. His eyes flickered over and saw Susan Bones, the girl from Hufflepuff who had most of her family murdered by Voldemort. Yeah, she'd definitely hate him.

She stood in front of her friends, nameless Hufflepuffs, with a deep frown on her face. "What are you doing here?" she asked, but she sounded more curious than anything.

He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, "Why do you think? You're here, too."

"You're a liar," a voice from behind spat out. He turned to see a Ravenclaw but he didn't know who they were. "You're a bloody liar, you know that? Why don't you tell us why you're really here? Was it not enough for you to be a Death Eater and try to fuck us over every chance you could? Now you have to ruin our last year at the one place we love?"

Zabini took a step towards him, "Do you have a problem with us?"

"Just him," he motioned towards Draco.

"Why don't you shut your mouth, Edwards," Zabini hissed. While Draco liked having the backup, he hated needing it. He hated being here, he hated these people, and he hated that no matter what happens nobody will ever care to hear his side of what happened. He was a Malfoy, the scum of the Wizarding World according to everyone else. The anger started in his stomach and boiled up, it burned his body and before he knew what he was doing he had crossed the room and was standing directly in front of the acne-scarred boy – Edwards is what Zabini called him.

Draco's voice was low, "I'm here whether you like it or not. You may think you're tough now with all your friends around you but you're not, you never have been. I have done things you can only dream of and if you think this school will stop me you're wrong. Now stay out of my way." Edwards' eyes were wide and he gulped. He was weak. The boy's eyes darted down and Draco followed them. He didn't realize that he had brought out his wand and was pressing it against Edwards' stomach but he was glad he did. They still feared him, or at least something resembling fear and he could work with that.

Draco put his wand away and walked back to Zabini who had a slight smile on his face. He was pleased. He could hear the others murmuring as they walked towards the Slytherins gathered against the far wall. Nott was there and his smile was wide and his eyes mischievous.

As they got closer, Nott walked up to him and slung his arm around his shoulder. "Now there's the Malfoy we all know and love," he laughed in his ear. "Now let's get out of here."

* * *

The dorms were about as bad as he thought they would be. He actually missed his shared room in the dungeon. There were floor-to-ceiling windows that looked directly into the lake creating a constant green hue that was both ominous and relaxing. This though? A small room with three beds, thank Merlin he only had to share a room with Zabini and Nott. Stone walls, stone floor, and no windows. Wonderful.

At least his luggage was there and next to the bed on the far right was his eagle owl, Faranth. It looked more like a prison than a dormitory and why did he think coming back here was a good idea? A handful – not even that many – of people could tolerate him, he no longer stayed in the Slytherin common room, and he was surrounded by people who more than likely wanted him dead. He just needed to survive a few months of light classes and then he could go back to the manor and…

He paused. What would he do? Would he get a job? Something in the Ministry maybe? No, probably not. Would he spend the rest of his days a hermit? That possibility seemed the most promising.

He walked to the bed and sat down on the edge with his back away from the others. He could hear Zabini and Nott talking and getting their things settled but he wasn't paying attention to them. He opened the door to Faranth's cage and the owl hopped out onto his arm.

The owl was a surprise gift from his mother before his first year at Hogwarts. An expensive bird from breeders in France, it took longer than Draco wanted to admit before he saw the bird as more than a postal service. He was loyal, even from the beginning, and undeniably beautiful.

He thought about sending a letter to his mother, he knew she wanted to hear from him and all he had to do was write that he wanted to go home and she would make it happen but he stopped himself. He had done a lot of terrible things but he wasn't about to lie to his own mother that he would rather jump into the Black Lake in the middle of winter than spend another day here.

He paused. He really needed to stop being so dramatic.

He slipped out of his robes and loosened the tie around his neck and flopped down on the bed. He pushed his hair back and craned his neck to see Nott pulling a book out of his bag.

"What are you reading?" he asked, flipping over onto his stomach. He stuck out his hand and managed to grab Nott's book before he had time to protest.

The book was heavier than he thought it would be.

Nott went to reach for the book but Draco moved it away, "No, no, no, I want to see what Mr. Nott reads in his spare time." Draco laughed and got up from his bed.

He opened up the first page and was surprised to see that looking up at him wasn't the moving photograph of the author but rather several photographs of wizards he didn't recognize. The whole page was filled with them. They were Nott's family.

"Why'd you bring this?" he asked, flipping the page over. He knew Nott's family and he had yet to see a picture of him or his parents, but he saw the distinguishable sharp nose and the tall, gangly build of the Nott's in the strangers staring up at him. The pictures were old, the subjects were all wearing outdated robes and hairstyles.

Nott stood next to him and pointed to a picture of a witch and wizard each holding a human skull. "Those are my grandparents," he stated. "Weird lot, don't you think? Glad I don't remember them." Nott turned the page and in the bottom right-hand corner stood a young Nott and his parents.

Draco didn't know the details surrounding the murder of Nott's mother. He was young when it happened and never got up the nerve to ask when he got older.

She was beautiful, in a friend's-dead-mother kind of way. He couldn't tell how tall she was, considering all of the males in the Nott family line were giants but she at least stood up to the shoulder of Nott's father. She had a soft face and long curly light brown hair. She wasn't staring at the camera but instead at the toddler on her hip. She was smiling – laughing, maybe – and was pointing to something off-camera. The Nott patriarch, Paschal Nott, had a rare smile on his face as he pressed a kiss down on top of his wife's head and wrapping his arms around the pair.

It was such an intimate moment that Draco felt a twinge of shame for taking the book. He turned the page and she was in every picture. Draco was pretty sure the only time pictures were taken in the Malfoy house were for the annual portrait but, then again, he never bothered to go through and actually look at past photos of his family.

Nott didn't say anything as Draco kept on turning the pages to find more and more pictures of his mother. The laughing smiling face of Nott's mother was not what he expected to see, he always pictured her stoic and hard like the rest of his family.

Pictures of her filled the book and finally Draco couldn't stand looking into such a private part of Nott's life so he closed the book and handed it back to him. He took it back wordlessly.

Draco broke the silence, "Your father's hair was atrocious, Nott." The Nott beside him broke out a grin and laughed.

"Oh, right and you're one to talk Malfoy," he countered. Draco grinned and half-heartedly threw his pillow at the gangly boy next to him in response.

Nott could be a lot to handle but Draco liked his company.

It wasn't long after that before all the boys had settled into their beds and fell asleep.

And that was when the nightmares began.

* * *

 **Hope you all like it! Hit me up with any comments or critiques.**

 **Thanks**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

He didn't dream often but when he did they were nightmares.

They weren't a result of his imagination running wild with childhood fears nor were they memories of what he had done under Voldemort's service. They were of what could've happened, what he could've done, what he could've become.

When he woke up he couldn't breathe. He just lied there gasping for air in his bed staring wide-eye at the ceiling in the dark. He stayed still until he managed to steady his breath and then he sat up. It was impossible to tell what time it was considering there were no fucking windows in the room but he figured it was still too early to be awake. Besides, Zabini was still in a deep sleep and he was an infamous early riser.

He slunk out of bed and grabbed his robes that were laying across his trunk. He debated on whether he should change out of his silk pajamas but decided against it. Nobody should be awake anyway.

The common area was nicer than his first impression. For starters, there were less Gryffindors so that was an automatic plus. The furniture was relatively nice. Each wall had separate coverings for each house. So, the wall to his right was covered in Slytherin decorations while the wall to his left had Gryffindor ones. A picture of the Gryffindor quidditch team from two years before was on the wall, they were all smiling and pointing at the camera.

Draco took it off the wall and stared at it. He couldn't remember who won the House Cup that year. Did Slytherin? No, there would've been more celebrations. He would've noticed that. He hoped.

He hung it back up on the hook, after debating throwing it in the bin, and looked around. A grandfather clock stood in one corner of the room and it read: 04:34. So, this was how he was going to start his last school year. He supposed it was fitting, he couldn't catch a break no matter what he did.

He looked towards the main door and thought about walking the halls of Hogwarts, maybe heading down to the Slytherin common room, but the last thing he wanted to do was run into Peeves and considering his luck recently he knew he would. Besides, he didn't even know the password.

That thought really bugged him.

Draco sat down on one of the couches and leaned his head back, trying his best to clear his mind.

* * *

It was about as bad as he thought it was going to be. Each class he was in he received glares from the other returning students. It was very clear they didn't want him there but they didn't confront him. Directly, at least. He heard the whispers, the curses thrown at him, but he did his best to ignore them.

He had to ignore them when they were talking about his father and his past but it was more difficult when it was about him. What he had done, as if they really knew what he'd done. They were naïve to think they understood anything about his life and they were bloody stupid if they thought they could judge him.

The good news was that there weren't many students returning to finish their seventh year, so less people that he had to be around all day. However, he wasn't oblivious to the whispers and stares through the halls as he walked through the halls.

Classes were after the normal class hours but they were short and sweet. Mostly review but if Draco was being honest, a lot of it was new to him. He didn't pay attention to most of his classes the past two years and if he was being totally honest he didn't think he'd graduate at all so what was the point? Why waste time and energy? He was either going to be dead or a degree from Hogwarts wasn't going to matter. But now things were different and now he had to pay attention and now everyone wished he was dead. Lovely.

Nobody actually said the words that they wished he was dead. Nobody would dare but he could see it in their eyes, their absolute burning hatred when they saw him. He didn't particularly blame them but he was still more than annoyed that it happened. That he was looked down on. A barrier was removed between him and the others that he spent years building. A wall was a better word for it. It was no longer there, though. It was torn down the moment the Dark Lord came back.

"Malfoy, what are your plans this weekend?" The loud voice of Theodore Nott brought him back to reality.

They were sitting in the common area. It wasn't too late but the sun had gone down and people were slowly trickling back in from their day activities. They didn't pay him any attention.

Draco didn't bother looking up at Nott but managed to grunt out, "Yeah, I'm planning on going to a few parties this weekend."

"Really?"

"No," he glanced over at Nott. "Why? What are you doing?" He didn't really care but Nott seemed to want to talk.

The boy next to him smirked and scooted closer, "You need to go out more, Malfoy."

"That wasn't an answer."

Nott rolled his eyes, "Did you really care about my answer?"

"No."

Nott laughed, "Didn't think you did. You didn't answer my question though."

Draco tried to focus on the textbook in front of him, "I didn't care enough to."

The thing about Nott was that he didn't let anything go. The git was too prideful for things to go by the wayside. Also, too nosey.

Nott reached over and closed the textbook in Draco's lap, much to his chagrin. "You're a prick, you know that? Oh, and Saturday you better cancel your plans to brood because we're going to head down to Hogsmeade."

"No," he answered simply.

Nott looked at him as if he suggested they sacrifice children. "What? Come on, what else are you doing?"

Draco opened the textbook back up. He couldn't remember what class he was even studying for, much less the page he was on, but if it got him out of talking to Nott then he figured it didn't matter.

Nott shut the book again. "I'm trying to do you a favor," he pressed.

Draco glared at him. "I didn't ask for one." Nott threw his hands up in the air as if to surrender and leaned back.

"Okay," he said. "I get it. Mr. Malfoy can't be seen with the likes of a lowly commoner such as I. Should I grovel at your feet master? It's master, right?" Nott had rolled off the couch and was now at Draco's feet looking up at him, the mischievous grin spread across his face.

Draco grabbed the textbook and wacked it over Nott's head. "Fuck off," but there was no malice in his voice.

"Fine, fine," Nott sighed in resignation. "You win, you smug bastard. Can't believe Voldemort ever chose you to finish off Dumbledore. I mean I…" He stopped listening. Draco knew that Nott wasn't trying to be an arse but _fuck_ that pissed him off.

He narrowed his eyebrows and stood up. His sudden movement caused Nott to fall backwards and the boy managed to cry out a 'hey!' but he wasn't paying him any attention. He pushed himself past a group of students entering, a mass of yellow, blue, and orange detailed robes and – was that Granger? – stormed into the hallway.

Zabini's voice called out from behind him, "Malfoy, wait!" He ignored him.

He continued walking until he was outside. It was chilly for a September night and he was stupid enough to go out in just his robes. He knew, he _knew_ he had no right to be so angry and then react like that which made him even more infuriated.

He walked until he was at the shores of the Black Lake. The murky water reflected the bright full moon back up into his face. He wondered if Fenrir Greyback was still alive. He didn't remember his name being brought up at the trials but he had long-since tried to push that beast out of his frame of mind that he doubted that if he heard the name it would stick. Was Greyback buried in a mass grave somewhere? Did his body fall in a place where nowhere would find it? Or was he in Azkaban stuck in his cell, foaming at the mouth while the dementors sucked out what was left of his soul? Draco wished it was the last one.

During the winter break of his sixth year, he walked in on Greyback tearing into the body of some unlucky soul. He was doing it so casually that Draco hadn't even realized what he was doing at first. His father walked in, took one glance towards Greyback and stuck his head up, the same way he used to when he saw the Weasley patriarch or he overheard some wizard discussing muggle rights.

"Must you do that in here?" He had asked, disgust laced in his voice.

Greyback looked at his father and smiled. His sharp yellow teeth were now coated in blood, tendrils of muscle and tendon hung from his mouth, and he sucked them in quickly. "Now where else would I eat my meals?" A bark escaped from him and he took another bite out of the piece of meat he was holding.

"With the other dogs out back," his father answered, but he made no move towards Greyback. Greyback went right back to eating.

Draco wanted to puke. He actually had to hold back his desire to heave up his dinner but he couldn't move his eyes away from the body. He thought about who that person was. Were they a girl or a boy? How old were they? Did they see Greyback coming? Draco hoped they didn't. Even if they were a muggle or a mudblood. Very few people deserved to see Greyback coming and certainly they didn't. Yet, he couldn't shake away the feeling that of relief. Relief that it was them and not him.

That thought still bothered him as he stood at the shore of the Black Lake. Draco was not an innocent bystander of the war. He had willingly pledged himself to Voldemort, he eagerly accepted the task of assassinating arguably the most powerful wizard in history, Merlin, he believed in the world that Voldemort had laid out before him. He had wanted all of that. In theory.

Death was an essential part of the plan. The body that Greyback had was not the first one that he had seen but it was the one that bothered him the most. The world that Voldemort wanted was going to allow people – beasts – like Greyback to thrive. That was going to be a normal part of the new world that was going to be created. And as much as Draco hated the wizarding world as it was, he hated that more.

He didn't do anything to combat against Voldemort's plans, he wasn't stupid, but it was that moment that stopped him from wanting that world. All he wanted was for his parents to be safe, for him to be safe, to live in seclusion and not be used as puppets any longer. To not live in fear.

That night on top of the tower –

No. He wasn't going to go through that again.

He picked up a stone and threw it into the lake. It sank to the bottom of the dark waters.

* * *

When he walked back into the common area Nott was sitting on one of the couches across from Granger and Longbottom. He hadn't realized that he had come back to finish his studies and was surprised that it took him so long to see him.

Looking at the scene, Draco figured that this was McGonagall's way of forcing the students to look past houses and force them to interact with each other. And by houses she would mean Slytherin, and by interact she would mean force them to breathe the same air without throwing curses at the others.

For now, it was working but it didn't mean that he had to like it.

He started walking towards Nott, but it wasn't the sharp-faced boy who first saw him approach but rather Longbottom.

Longbottom stared at him as he approached but Draco couldn't pin down the look in his eyes. Anger? Resentment? Jealousy? No. None of those were right but he didn't have time to figure it out because Longbottom moved the textbook off his lap and moved in front of him.

Was Longbottom always this tall? He was a few inches taller than him, at least, and now he had the confidence to back it up. He wasn't intimidated by the boy in front of him, but he no longer felt like he had the decisive upper-hand. Longbottom's dark hair was cut short and there were a few new scars along his jawline which only served to show how far he had come since the days of the Remembrall.

Longbottom's eyebrows were narrowed as he looked down on him, as if trying to goad him into saying something.

"Malfoy."

"Longbottom."

Longbottom crossed his arms, "Nice to see you here." Every single time that Draco had heard this line before it was said with a sneer and smirk, but Longbottom's tone caught him off guard. It was as if he actually _meant it_. He was so taken aback that he couldn't form a response. He was torn between wanting to deck Longbottom or just settling with a snide remark.

He didn't get a chance to decide because his eyes caught those of Granger's. She had done her best to ignore him since their encounter on the train and he had done the same. Whatever Longbottom was trying to do, Granger had no part of it. She seemed just as surprised as he was but she had actually found a suitable reaction – glaring at him.

The low voice of Nott cut the silence, "How does it feel to be on the wrong side of history, Longbottom?" Nott got up from the couch and stood next to Draco. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I have no love for Voldemort but fighting alongside mudbloods and other blood-traitors? That's truly disgusting." The images of Fenrir Greyback eating in his dining room flashed in Draco's mind. "Your parents got what they deserved and so will you."

Granger had moved so fast that he didn't even see her move, she had just appeared next to Longbottom with her wand drawn and pointed at Nott's throat. The atmosphere had changed from overwhelmingly awkward to overwhelmingly hostile in seconds. Longbottom's eyes were narrowed, and Draco instantly recognized the emotions behind them.

"Say that again, Nott," Granger hissed.

Nott rolled his shoulders and a smile graced his lips. "Your parents got what they deserved and so will you," he repeated slowly. He articulated each word and kept his gaze squarely on Longbottom who hadn't moved.

Draco had known about Longbottom's parents for several years, even up until the end Bellatrix often bragged about her role in breaking their minds. It still made him uneasy to think about. He wasn't against low blows, but he knew Nott crossed a line.

"You're a vile – " Longbottom put a hand on Granger's shoulder.

Draco wasn't one hundred percent certain, but he was almost completely sure that Granger had performed unforgiveable curses and that she was not above using them on either Nott or him. Judging by the absolute fury in her eyes, he figured he was a few seconds away from finding out.

"Maybe my parents can't recognize me but they sure as hell are better than you." Longbottom's voice was quiet, and it shook a bit, but it drew Nott's attention away from Granger. His smile grew until he showed his teeth.

"Oh, Mr. Longbottom does have a backbone now," he laughed. "I heard the rumors, but I didn't think they were true. I always thought you were a Hufflepuff myself, but I guess you proved me wrong." His eyes before had a mischievous glint but now were dark. "What are you going to do about it?"

Draco wasn't sure what had gotten into Nott. He usually preferred to just stay back in the shadows and laugh at the others from afar, he rarely got confrontational. He had seen him like this only a few times but never was he so daring.

"Don't waste your breath, Nott," the words slipped out of his mouth before he realized what he was even doing "Father says that blood traitors are practically mudbloods and I don't want to breathe in the same air as them, do you?" He looked over at Nott to see him looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

Nott shrugged his shoulders. "You're right, Malfoy, we are better than that," was all he said, and he turned around and started to head towards their room.

Draco stood there with Longbottom and Granger watching Nott leave. He didn't seem to care that he wasn't following him.

"Well?" Seems that spending months in the wilderness didn't rid Granger of her snotty attitude.

Draco turned to look at her, he didn't even have to force the smirk on his face.

"You're a real piece of work Malfoy," she spat at him, but she had her wand lowered so he didn't believe he was in any real danger from her. Unless she decided to throw punches.

His glare hardened. "Shut your mouth, Granger," he snapped.

Longbottom narrowed his eyes, "We got to live here together whether we like this or not, Malfoy. We can't put everything behind us, but we can at least be civil here."

"Merlin, you really are a Hufflepuff."

"You're missing the point here – "

"Neville, don't worry about this," Granger stepped in, but her voice was now soft. "He's made his point."

Longbottom stuck out his hand and Draco wasn't sure if he or Granger was more surprised by the boy's gesture.

"Here," Longbottom said. "We don't have to fight anymore, it's over."

Draco stared at his hand and for a moment he considered shaking it but then thoughts of Bellatrix and Longbottom's parents and Granger having the word 'mudblood' carved into her skin entered his mind and he knew he couldn't do it.

He shook his head, "Yes, we do." And then he turned around and went to bed.

* * *

 **Let me know if you like it or have any critiques. Thank you for reading :)**


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